Changes
by Zahra Haider
Summary: My take on what should have happened in the Shell Cottage During the Deathly Hallows. How Hermione and Ron face the changes of their relationship.


**Changes**

"Shell cottage!" Ron screamed as he turned around on the spot, squeezing through the tunnel and then staggering to a halt, in front of a modest cottage he had recently just visited. Laden with Hermione in his arms, he struggled towards it, the moist cold wind ripping mercilessly at his wounds as he hugged her cold, lifeless body closer to his. Tears mingling with blood, streamed down his face as he murmured silent prayers. Squinting in the dark, he saw two figures racing towards him, one with silver hair contrasting against the dark, velvet of night.

"Ron, Merlin! Let me take Hermione," Bill stretched his arms before him urgently and Fleur took hold of his arm, supporting his staggering stand.

"No, I will take her," Ron managed to croak, tightening his hold on Hermione.

Bill was about to argue but Ron was thankful to Fleur who silenced him with a look.

"Come then, inside hurry," Bill held his other side as they made towards the warm cottage.

"Ron, put 'er on the couch, before the fireplace," Fleur said urgently as she whipped her wand, igniting the fire. A faint 'crack' sounded in the yard and Bill rushed outside, drawing his wand.

With an amazing effort, Ron sat on his knees and placed Hermione on the couch, who started shivering on losing contact with the heat of Ron's embrace.

"Hermione, you are safe. I am here, please look at me, please," Ron kneeled besides her pale face and with tears running, he held her frail, cold hands in his, rubbing them gently.

"I am so sorry, so sorry Hermione," he wept as he brought her hands to his lips.

"Ron, let me look at 'er," Ron felt pressure on his shoulder as Fleur spoke. He nodded and without letting go of her hand, he slid aside as Fleur positioned herself besides Hermione.

"There is no internal bleeding, I suspect," Fleur stated as she ran her wand over the wounds. "We have to take her upstairs, Ron."

Ron heaved himself up and directed his arms beneath her body to lift her up.

"Oh Ron, you mustn't. You are weak yourself," Ron ignored Fleur and lifted Hermione. It took all the strength he had and much more to climb those stairs but Ron did not want to levitate her. He wanted her close to him, so his body could take away some of her pain if not all. Ron did not see the tears in Fleur's eyes as he placed her on the bed and pulled the covers. He climbed in next, holding her close to him, his back resting against the headset.

"Here, Ron, dab this on her wounds," Fleur handed him the essence of Dittany. "I'll go check up on Mr. Ollivander."

Ron nodded and dabbed the potion on her wounds. Brushing each wound with his hands, he felt bereaved. He reached the slash on her neck and fingered it caressingly, wishing and hoping it was him and not her. She didn't deserve this. It was him. He should have been the one punished and tortured. Not this beautiful, loyal woman who remained determined to her word, to her oath.

"Hermione," Ron brushed her soft cheek with his hands, whispering her name. He felt her move at his voice as she moaned in her unconsciousness.

"Ron, let me take a closer look at 'er. You should go out. 'Arry is back," Ron didn't notice Fleur standing at the door, and he complied. Dragging his feet, he made it to the front yard where an anomalous sight met him. Harry was digging besides a small body spangled lifeless on the ground. Moving closer, his heart sunk and he cursed loudly, running his fingers through his hair, looking around in disbelief. The bloodstained tea cloth was much more than he could bear. Yet, he wiped his eyes dry and cleared his voice. His best friend needed him. Reaching Harry, he conjured another shovel and joined him; evading Harry's questioning glance and Dobby's lifeless body. Once done, both Harry and Ron climbed out of the hole, and Harry made towards Dobby. Bill and Fleur emerged from the cottage followed by Luna and a very frail Hermione wrapped in a blanket. Ron hurried towards her and she looked at him with tired, wet eyes and then at the grave.

"Ron, how could this…" Hermione broke down and Ron embraced her, his chin resting on her head.

"I know Hermione," he whispered, consolingly. He felt protective, responsible, and answerable. Why ever did he find her embrace uncomfortable before, he didn't understand. "Harry needs us and we have to be strong for him," Pulling her close to him, he sensed her nodding in his chest. She pulled back, yet in his embrace, wiping her face dry. Advancing towards the rest of the group, they sought for the spot right next to Harry, whose shoulders slumped in despair. He looked up to them and Ron rested his hand on the back of his shoulder. The funeral proceeded modestly, with Ron's arm around a sniffing Hermione, with Harry kneeling on the ground fingering the mound of dirt covering their savior, with Fleur resting her head against Bill's chest, with Dean resting on the stairs and with Luna waving her wand dreamily in air gathering colorful pebbles to ornate the grave.

"How are you feeling now? You are not too cold are you?" Ron inquired after Hermione who had, with great effort, climbed into one of the twin beds of the small room.

"I am fine, Ron. I should take the sleeping draught," Hermione replied her voice straining.

"I am sorry, Hermione," murmured Harry who was standing with his back to them, gazing out the starry night through the window.

"Harry please, don't be. It is not your fault," Hermione stated sternly.

"But it is. Don't you understand, both of you? None of this would have happened if I would've been man enough to do all of this on my own," Harry remonstrated, his eyes misty behind the glasses as he whipped around to face them.

"Harry you had no choice in the matter. We would have come even if you didn't want us to," Ron declared rather strongly as Hermione nodded propping up on the bed. "I know how it feels to abandon your friends and I never want to experience it again, trust me."

At this Hermione looked at Ron and saw angry determination in his eyes. Harry, too was taken back Ron's rigor.

A small knock on the door diverted them and Harry crossed the room to open it. Luna was sharing the room with Hermione and so both Ron and Harry felt they should leave and let the girls rest.

"G'night," Harry wished as he strode out. Ron took a little long, looking at Hermione who managed a weak smile.

"Sleep well," Ron said, amazing Hermione with his gentleness. Closing the door behind him, Ron climbed down to the living room to join Harry who had already crept in his sleeping bag.

"Ronald has changed," Luna's dreamy voice swam through this darkness and Hermione, her eyes open, murmured a quiet yes. He had changed. He was no longer the insensitive teenager she was mostly annoyed at. He was a grown man now, with an astounding will and strength. The way he was holding her today, wrapping his protection around her when she most vulnerable was a newly emerging trait. His concern for others warmed her within. Bothering over the fate of Mrs. Cattermole, a stranger no less, was the first indicator of a changed Ron. Then, what he did for her today, And for Harry, ascertained the newly discovered fact of a new Ron And she knew she was falling for him.

Days in Shell cottage seemed restrictive for their ambition as the adequate cottage was bearing more than it could hold. Having no personal space of their own, Harry, Ron and Hermione mainly resorted to the breezy outdoors for reminiscing. Only at mealtimes they joined the others, constantly nagged by guilt for taking Bill and Fleur's hospitality for granted. Today, Hermione couldn't resist and resorted to helping Fleur with the dishes as Ron and Harry took care of sending food to the ailing residents in their respective rooms.

"Merci but you're barely out of bed. You should rest," Fleur fretted as Hermione waved her wand to clear the dishes.

"I have had enough rest and this is the least I could do," Hermione smiled at her, as Fleur returned hers. Fleur continued watching her as Hermione dried the cutlery laden on the table.

"You do know you are very lucky," Hermione spun around as Fleur said quietly. "You 'ave wonderful friends."

"Yes, I guess I am," Hermione replied thoughtfully. Fleur brought over two mugs of tea and sat down at the table handing Hermione hers.

"I had no friend that is before Bill," Fleur told her gazing down at the mug, fingering the brim with her long, slender finger. Hermione was quite taken back at this confession as she couldn't quite remember this impeccable woman ever being this vocal about anything this personal.

"But you were the star of Beaux batons, weren't you?" Hermione inquired, settling at a chair opposite Fleur who smiled.

"I was the star but very lonely. Girls never befriended me as they thought I was intimidating and boys well, you know the rest. I 'ave never seen friendship like yours."

Hermione looked at the woman before her and felt great affection for her, that surprised herself.

"If you don't mind I have been meaning to ask you something from the day you all came," Fleur started hesitantly, drawing circles on the table pattern.

"Yes?" Hermione encouraged, sipping tea in the process.

"Is there something between you and Ron?" These words plunged deep as Hermione took her time to emerge from behind the mug.

"I…I don't understand what you mean?" Hermione feigned, drawing her hands together nervously beneath the table.

"Ron reminds me so much of Bill sometimes. It was actually the day you first came here, all bruised and Ron taking care of you. I remember falling for Bill right after my accident in a pyramid in Eygpt. He did the same for me, you see," Fleur eyes shined brightly and Hermione sensed a faint glow emit from her. Just then, like on cue, Bill walked in, his scarred face contorted in an angry countenance.

"I hate the goblin," he growled as walked to the cabinet, pulling out a firewhiskey. Fleur continued to gaze at him fondly before gliding towards him. Hermione chose to walk out of the kitchen but not before she saw Fleur rest her head on his back.

It was the night before the task of breaking in the most heavily guarded building in the wizarding world. The three were splayed across the back yard under the black sky, Harry twirling Draco's wand, leaning against the fence, Hermione nervously pacing over the dark green grass, and Ron, resting his back against the large tree trunk in the corner of the yard.

"We have done all the planning we could do. Let's call it a night then, shall we?" Harry suggested, shoving his wand in the back pocket and straightening up. Hermione ceased and her nervous eyes shot to him.

"If anything, if anything goes wrong…" Hermione couldn't finish as Ron stepped behind her and placed his large hands on her shoulders and giving her a reassuring squeeze.

"If anything goes wrong we'll find a way out like we always do," Ron said hopefully, though Harry could sense reluctance in his tone. Nonetheless, he was glad that Ron had voiced hope. Hermione nodded but there was something in her eyes as she looked at Ron, Harry saw. Was it indecision? Was it sense of deprivation? Harry couldn't quite arrive to a conclusion but he sensed the need to give his friends some space they deserved. He quietly walked towards the door inside, aware of Ron and Hermione following him and then stopping. He didn't look back and continued the pretense that he didn't see Hermione pull Ron's hand and silently asking him to stay. Once inside, he made an effort to proceed to his make-shift bed but misgivings inside detained him on the spot and he turned to face the outside where Hermione and Ron stood in the dark. Harry wanted to find out their extent of reservations regarding the mission they had vowed to finish. Harry did not feel resentment at the thought as he wanted to know, desperately, honestly, if the pressure of the task was taking a toll on them and he knew they would never admit it to his face.

Ron followed Harry, absent mindedly running his fingers through his hair. He came to an abrupt halt as Hermione caught up to him and held his wrist.

"Ron, wait," Hermione said and Ron looked at her, quizzically. Clearly Harry had not heard her as he was continuing towards the back door.

"I need to say something," Hermione felt short of breath as Ron's brow frowned. Had it not been for the moon light shining through the immense darkness he would never have guessed Hermione was troubled.

"Is something wrong?" Ron inquired, searching her eyes which seemed bewildered.

"No…nothing is wrong. I actually wanted to say…" Hermione tucked a strand behind her ears, wringing her fingers together. Ron stepped closer to her and held her quivering hands in his, disentangling them.

"Hermione, you can tell me anything," he whispered, gazing intently at her. She was distracted by the soft caresses Ron's thumb was making on her skin. Releasing her breath, she mustered all her courage and looked up to him.

"Ron, I would like to say thank you. Thank you for everything," Hermione exhaled as Ron's brow constricted again but recovered instantaneously.

"Oh…" Ron mouthed and he took a step back from her but continued holding her hands. Hermione saw disappointment etched on his face.

"What I mean is if tomorrow we don't, you know," Hermione knew she had uttered something wrong as Ron's head jerked up and rage flared in his eyes.

"If tomorrow what?" Ron glared at her and she almost drew back until when she found her ground.

"You know what I mean, Ron?" Hermione stated, feigning a cool demeanor.

"Yes I do and I am afraid I disagree. Nothing will happen tomorrow," Ron spat and made to leave but enraged at his immatureness, Hermione spun him around, pulling at his arm.

"Oh come on Ron, you don't believe _everything _will go alright tomorrow. Be reasonable and accept that things can go wrong tomorrow and tonight could be our last…"

"Alright, if you want me to believe that, then is 'thank you' all you have to say to me? If considering tonight as our last night together, is 'thank you' all that you can think of?" Ron snarled, infuriating Hermione even more to an extent she actually considered pulling out her hair, or his.

"What else Ron? What would _you_ say to me on our last night?" Ron opened his mouth several times, groping at some words but nothing came. "Yes, exactly what I thought. Nothing." Fighting tears, Hermione walked past him, wind whipping her hair.

Harry saw Ron stand in the middle of the dark, staring after Hermione who was coming towards the door he himself was standing against. Attempting to draw back and race to the living room, he abruptly stopped when he saw Ron with his long legs, sprinting after Hermione. Catching up to her, he reached for her elbow and pulled her back, her loose hair whipping around her face as both Harry and Hermione stared befuddled at Ron's determined face.

"You're right, I would say nothing to you, except this," pulling her closer, her face in his hands and leaning in, he pressed his mouth over hers. Hermione's initial shock gave way to Ron's lips moving sensually upon hers and she closed her eyes, giving in the kiss. Ron dug deep in her hair as Hermione splayed her hands on his chest and slowly wove them around his neck as they both deepened the kiss, oblivious to their friend who had just turned his back on them, a huge grin appearing on his face.


End file.
